


Full  Disclosure

by managerie



Series: RINCH [29]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because I am totally sure season five is going to Joss this to high heaven, Bisexual Male Character, But they break up so that's okay, Cause these guys need a manual to be social, First Time, M/M, Mentions of iReese, Mildly Dubious Consent, Misunderstandings, RINCH will Conquer All, Spoilers, rinch, season four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: In Season Four, Detective John Riley promised Dr. Iris Campbell that he would explain everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Confession

**Author's Note:**

> I am not a fan of Iris Campbell. This work makes that clear. So, if you like her then you probably won't like this piece. I feel that as John's therapist, Iris has undo influence on John. Therefore, John can not consent to a relationship with her. Thus, the dubious consent warning.
> 
> Beta read by BlueFinch

~ * ~

It was a few weeks after all hell broke loose that John Riley was able to meet up with his girlfriend and former therapist for a real date. John made dinner while Iris brought the wine.

Once the dishes were soaking, John sat beside Iris on the couch, sipping his chardonnay weakly. The air was thick with awkwardness. Finally, she put down her glass and shifted to face him.

He straightened his shoulders, prepared for the worst.

She sighed, “So?”

When John looked at her blankly, she rolled her eyes. “You said you would explain everything?” She made a small gesture of opening her hand as if passing John an envelope. “Explain.”

John gulped some of the now tasteless wine, placed his own glass down on the coffee table, ran his large palms nervously over the tops of his thighs, and resettled on the couch leaning forward, his hands balled together. When she thought he wasn’t going to speak he rasped in a low voice, “Four years ago, I was in a bad place emotionally and mentally.”

She looked at him with doubt since she figured she would know better than anyone how bad John was _now_.

He shrugged, “It was worse. I promise. Harold, that’s the guy with glasses you saw. Harold found me, gave me a purpose, a home, a family, a new life. He’s genius level smart, richer than God, and has a heart bigger than the sky. He cares about…everyone.”

John smiled briefly then continued, “He used his smarts and money to find out stuff over the internet. What he does isn’t entirely legal, but he is a private citizen, a very _private_ citizen. He’s the most honorable man I’ve ever known. I would do anything for him. All he asks of me is to be a good cop or do the right thing for some of the people he finds that are in trouble.”

John stopped talking, but he still didn't look at Iris.

She waited a few seconds then asked, “So, the other day you were helping this Harold to get someone out of trouble?”

John relaxed some. “Yes.”

Iris nodded to herself for a minute. “Okay.”

John did look up at that. “Okay?”

She shrugged, “Yeah. You like helping people and sometimes the law doesn’t get there in time.”

John leaned back. “You’re right about that.”

He draped his arm on the back of the couch, body language open so his hand could gently stroke her hair.

She smiled, “That’s all it was; a friend who helped you, you returning the favor?”

John stiffened a bit. “Well, in the interest of full disclosure; Harold is my best friend, we work these special cases everyday with no time off.” John looked up at the ceiling, letting out a huge puff of air. “And I’ve been in love with him for the last three years.”

Iris stilled with wide eyes. “Wait. You’re gay?”

Reese grimaced a bit. “I don’t know what they label it now; bisexual, pan, demi. I just don't care what gender my partners are. If I like them, I like them.”

“Huh.” she murmured.

John eyed her for a second. “Is that...a problem?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head briefly. “I was just rearranging some assumptions I had. You and Harold broke up, but stayed friends?”

“Um, no.” He sat up a bit, slightly self conscious. “Harold is straight. I’m not comfortable going into details about his life since he _**is**_ a very private person. I can say that the only person he was ever romantically linked with that I’ve heard about was a woman, years before I met him.”

Iris slowly asked.“You don’t know if he likes men?”

“Not really, I guess.” John shrugged.

She propped an elbow on the back of the couch to ask, “Well, what did he say when he found out you loved him?”

John paled and only uttered out a meek, “Ah.”

“Seriously?” She stood up to look down at him with her hands on her hips. “You never told him?”

He leaned forward imploringly. “No, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“So, he’s a homophobe?”

John snorted. “Hardly.”

“Then, how do you know he doesn't want you back?” She asked reasonably.

“I just know.” John stood as well. “Look, I’ve made my peace with it. I’ve moved on.”

“But,” she began doggedly. “You just said that you’re still in love with him. How can that be?”

He ran his fingers through his short cropped hair then over his mouth. With great patience he said, “I learned long ago how to work towards attainable goals. Harold isn’t one of those. I’ve moved on. Yes, I love him. I will always love him, but that doesn't mean I stop living.”

Hotly she asked, “So, what am I? A consolation prize?”

He stepped forward, attempting to hold her, soothing, “Don’t be like that.”

She moved out of his way, placing the coffee table between them like a barrier. “I’m just supposed to live my life _with you,_ knowing your heart belongs to another? I’m supposed to wait around in fear that one day he’ll look at you and realize he loves you too? Then you just dump me like a sack of potatoes?”

Tightly, he growled, “That won't happen.”

Iris straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “You have to tell him.”

“What?” John was baffled.

“You have to tell Harold how you feel.” She said as she crossed her arms over her small breasts.

“I can’t do that.” John shook his head slowly, trying to explain. “I won’t make him uncomfortable around me. I won’t lose the most important person in my life.”

Her lips quivered in silence for a few heartbeats with one hand lifting until she finally shouted, “ _ **I’m**_ supposed to be the most important person to you!” The raised hand smacked against her chest.

Quietly, desperately John said, “That’s unreasonable. We barely know each other. I’m not the most important person to _**you,**_ now am I?”

Her eyes became saucers of astonishment. “Oh, my God.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red as she went to gather her purse and coat. “I’ve been a fool; a stupid, naive, fool.”

John numbly watched her, unable to move.

As she made for the door,she waved her empty hand imperiously in the air. “Tell him, don’t tell him: it doesn't matter to me anymore.”

She opened the door, turned to sneer at him, and said, “We are through. I’ll have another therapist take your files. Don’t call me. If you see me in the hall, pretend I don’t exist.”

She slammed the door as she left.

~ * ~

 


	2. Admission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where do you go when your best girl has dumped you?

 

~ * ~

Harold Whistler opened the door to his apartment slowly, having seen John Riley on the other side. The taller man looked exhausted and wrung out; more so than Harold had ever seen him before. Not even getting shot looked this bad on the man. “Mr. Reese? What happened?”

“Hey, Harold.” John said slowly. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, yes of course.” Harold stepped back to let in his guest.

John took off his coat to hang on the hooks by the entrance. “Nice place, Professor.”

Harold nodded at the compliment, but persisted. “John, what happened?”

John turned forlornly toward Harold. “She broke up with me.”

“Oh dear.” Harold took a step forward, wanting to comfort his friend, but at the last second Harold’s hands dropped to his side. “I’m so sorry. Would it help if I talked to her?”

John laughed sourly as he flopped onto the old frayed couch just a few steps from the door in the tiny apartment. “No, no it really wouldn’t help.”

“She had a problem with our work?” Harold caught himself. “Oh, forgive me, Mr. Reese. I have no right to ask such personal questions.”

John caught Harold’s sleeve and dragged the older man down next to him on the couch. “Harold, you’re my best friend, the person I trust more than anyone or any * **thing*** in the universe. “

“Why thank you, Mr. Reese.” Harold said stiffly.

John leaned back, slumped and dejected, one hand covering his eyes. “My girl just broke up with me. Either we spend the evening talking trash and getting way too personal like a couple of bros who will never speak of this again or I go out and get drunk. Your choice.”

John knew very well how much Harold hated for John to start drinking again. Reluctantly the recluse said, “Alright. Did she have a problem with you working our cases?”

From under his hand John murmured, “No, funnily enough she understood that. What she couldn’t take was the fact that I’m in love with someone I can never have.”

Startled by this knowledge, Harold simply said, “Oh.”

John sat up, hands fisted between his knees. “Yeah. Oh.”

“Would a _bro_ ask with whom you were still in love?”

“A bro would.” John’s profile smiled weakly. “However, a gentleman such as myself would not feel right telling. Suffice it to say that I reassured Iris that the person in question has no interest in men at all. This did not satisfy the Doctor. Oh, no. I was supposed to tell this other person of my feelings so that the Doctor could feel secure in her position as The-Most-Important-Person-In My-Life ™.”

“I am sorry, John.” Harold mentally crossed out Carter or Jessica as John’s love interest. That left Shaw or _**Root**_ , which made Harold shudder with revulsion. However, he was determined to help his friend. “But, are you sure that the other person isn’t bisexual?”

John shook his head sadly. “No evidence that they have ever looked at a man with lust or love.”

Harold got more comfortable on the couch, figuring John was owed a few private confessions from Harold. “Since we’re disclosing personal information. I think you should at least try to tell this other person. You never really know until you ask.”

Harold took a bracing inhale and blurted out quickly. “I remember how terrified I was that Nathan would figure out that I was head over heels for him. He was redundantly heterosexual, or so it seemed. When he found out I loved him he was delighted. Yes, he wasn't interested in men in general, but like some cliche slash fanfiction he was interested in me _in specific_. I would have missed out on one of the most satisfying relationships of my life. The fact that it ended is of no consequence --”

“Wait! Wait, you’re bisexual?” John’s whole body had shifted closer to stare wide eyed at Harold.

“Technically, no.” Harold’s voice was strained. “I loved Grace, but I wasn’t sexually attracted to her. She was fine with that. It seems I’m _**homosexual,**_ but biromantic.”

John blinked slowly. “Harold.” He tried to swallow, his mouth suddenly dry. “Harold, if I were to tell you that the person I’ve been in love with for three years was you, do you think you could find a way to love me back?”

“Oh, John.” Harold spoke slowly, his eyes shiny and wet. “You silly boy. I’m already in love with you! I thought you knew that!”

John’s own eyes filled with tears, falling carelessly down his cheeks. “I thought you were straight and still in love with Grace.”

Harold wanted to berate the other man. It was obvious to everyone that Harold was gay and besotted with Reese. For heaven sakes the Harold Wren alias that was his oldest, that was the only identity linked to Nathan and Will was openly gay. However, the distress and longing on John’s face made Harold table the discussion for later. Right now, he needed to reassure John that the feelings were mutual.

Harold opened his arms and John rushed into the embrace, a broken sob escaping. He sounded wretched. Harold soothed and shushed, running his fingers through the gelled hair. “It’s alright John. I love you. I have for some time. I am so sorry you didn’t know. I am so sorry we wasted all this time.”

John lifted his head. “We have the time now. Please?”

John moved his head slowly forward giving Harold plenty of time to back out of the kiss.

Their lips met.

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I need to fluff up the third chapter. So, that could take a bit.


	3. Exposure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tying up loose ends.

~ * ~

Harold woke early with a furnace of heat draped along his back like an insulated cape. It was John, spooned up behind him with a firm arm around Harold’s waist. John appeared to be trying to insert his whole body under Harold’s skin. Which was fine by Finch.

When he had indulged in fantasizing about sleeping in the same bed with Reese, Harold had always assumed they’d have to be cautious about John’s wariness, his inability to get used to a new bed partner, old habits from training having been drilled into him.

Yet, last night as they kissed and cuddled their way to bed in shorts and shirts for nothing more than touches and reassurances, Harold had discovered that John’s subconscious accepted Harold as part of John.

There were no late night disturbances of a startled Reese. John didn’t attack Harold in his sleep. Nothing. Nothing, but John resembling a boa constrictor looking for more places to wriggle in and squeeze.

It was a pleasant backdrop to Harold’s morning brain reboot. Like the giant computer from the 50’s that it was, Harold’s brain warmed up slowly and required a lot of tinkering. Punch cards could be required on bad mornings. This wasn’t a bad morning at all.

Harold’s brain was of course ticking away at all the problems that needed ironing out to make way for this new aspect of their relationship under Samaritan's eye. John would need to be cautious at work as the police force was still an Old Boy’s Club with toxic ideas of masculinity and sexuality.

However, Samaritan would consider any collusion between Professor Whistler and Detective Riley to be less circumspect now that it would be revealed they had been starting a budding love affair after their first meeting. Riley hadn’t arrested the Professor, but had kept an eye on him to make sure his story panned out. It was quite natural to assume they kept meeting in parks and at restaurants because of a romance. This had occurred to Harold as a perfect cover before. He had rejected the idea for several reasons.

The biggest reason was that Harold might be a martyr to the cause, but he was not a masochist. Pretending to be John’s lover would have been torture. Then of course, locking John into a public relationship would mean preventing him from forming attachments elsewhere. While an attractive if selfish prospect for Harold, it would have been cruel to John.

No, Harold had been right to allow them to get to this stage on their own. It felt right. That didn't mean Harold wasn’t going to make John talk about boundaries and personal needs before jumping in too deep. John had been bounced from one extreme to another yesterday and Harold wanted to be certain that they were having a meeting of the minds. John didn’t need to go from one coercive romance to another. Harold's power over John had to be by his choice not by necessity as it had with Dr. Campbell.

Dr. Campbell. She was another issue that needed to be resolved today. She could be a liability to John: both personally and professionally. Harold would need to neutralize her (in his own way) as a threat: not just to John, but to future patients as well.

As Harold contemplated this, he carefully left the bed, donned his robe, and pulled out John’s ‘go-bag’ from the hall closet. Harold had one there himself, one at John Riley’s apartment as they both did at various safe houses around the city. John’s was sparse, but did have his toiletries and a change of clothes. Harold gingerly placed the suitcase at the foot of the bed then went to take a shower.

~ * ~

Dr. Iris Campbell opened her office precisely five minutes before the hour as was her usual convention. The only object marring her well ordered routine was the short, spiky haired man in glasses who was sitting at her desk piercing her with inscrutable eyes.

Iris froze and demanded, “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

Harold blinked slowly as he carefully stood. “I am Harold. John Riley’s best friend.”

“Oh?” She raised an imperious eyebrow, but calmly asked, “Are you here to beg me to take John back? Because I won’t. You should ask _**him**_ about it.”

Harold’s face lost what little his expression it had, leaving a frosty exterior. “The last thing I would ever do is try to get John back together with a coercive rapist such as yourself. If it were solely up to me, I would have you in handcuffs this instant. However, unlike you: I always put John’s happiness, _**his**_ well being before my own wants and desires.”

Iris was shocked, standing there turning pink with growing embarrassment as Harold continued, “You manipulated John like a demented Puppeteer and when he refused to dance quite to your specifications you cut his strings. Fortunately, John has worked hard to become a real boy. He doesn’t need your support.”

Harold paused to step closer and loom as best he could over her. “He can walk on his own, right to _**my bed**_ now that you have finally released your claws from his hide.”

Iris recovered enough to huff, “Get out!’

Harold said mildly, “I have made arrangement for you to become the on-site psychiatrist at the Women’s Correction Facility in New Jersey.”

He produced a dossier from under his arm which he carelessly flopped onto her desk. “I hope that your previous choice in lovers means that never again will you sexual harass a patient under your care. But if you decide to get back up to your old tricks I will find out about it.”

“You can’t force me out of my job!” She screeched.

Harold merely blinked coldly at her. “Can’t I? If you refuse to leave, I will be required by law, by decency, by ethics, and by sheer morals to report you to the board of medicine.”

She smugly crossed her arms, “There will be an inquiry and John would have to testify.”

This barely made Harold pause as he walked to the door, forcing Iris to turn. He said to her casually, “Maybe. However, I have found that someone who uses their power for personal gain in such a seamless fashion as you have here usually has done it before. I could probably just ask your ex-fiance, Detective Sergeant Stephen Weilheim to give witness to your predatory practices in using your patient list like a menu for a lover.”

Iris gasped.

Harold took the door knob in his hand. “Would that interest you? Having your dirty laundry splashed on the front page of every newspaper. Having to be incarcerated for your crimes and losing your license? That can be arranged at anytime.”

“That’s blackmail!” She accused.

Harold gave her a smile that could freeze a hot blue flame. “Good, we understand each other then. Now, please pack up your belonging and never darken John’s life or place of work again. Otherwise, I will be forced to look up your former paramours.”

With that, he stepped into the hall and closed the door with a soft snick

~ * ~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, this story is complete. I had planned to write a rather steaming but unproblematic, mature, reasonable love scene (SMUT) But I am afraid it will add another two chapters and my muse is being weird. So, should I work on another chapter even though it could take me weeks?


	4. Telling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our pair gets started on their new dynamic.

~ * ~

Professor Whistler stepped out of the elevator with his service dog to knock on the door to the apartment belonging to his...boyfriend. Ridiculous labels. _Lover _ was too presumptuous as this was technically their first official date. _Paramour_ was over the top pretentious. Whatever they were to each other they would discuss it on the other side of the door that John was opening slowly.

They had planned that extraordinary morning to meet for dinner around seven thirty since Riley usually arrived home around six pm (cases,numbers, and Samaritan permitting of course) with the heavenly smells of slow roasted meat greeting him.

John had explained that a crock pot made sense. All he had to do was get there within an eighteen hour window with some veggies and a starch that would take a mere thirty minutes to complete. That usually meant that Riley had a full, home-cooked meal every night. Harold suggested that they push it back to seven thirty so that John could relax, shower, and change before cooking. Harold wanted to spend the evening with John Reese not Detective Riley after all.

The John Reese standing before him was indeed relaxed with wet, ungelled hair, soft looking faded jeans, and a green Polo shirt with bare-feet. He deftly took the bottle of good yet economic red wine wedged under Harold’s arm as John guided his guests into the small apartment.

Bear was let off his leash to make himself comfortable under the coffee table in the middle of the living room’s second-hand rug. Harold was still in his three piece suit, but he removed his jacket and tie, rolling up his sleeves as he then unbutton two of his shirt’s top buttons.

John whistled wolfishly and made to pull a twenty out of his wallet. “A strip tease like that deserves top dollar.”

Harold batted the bill away, his eyes sparkling with good humor. Harold inhaled deeply. “What is that aroma making me salivate?”

John smiled while opening the bottle to let it breathe, “Barbacoa. I made tortillas for tacos. Is that alright?”

“You made tortillas?”

“Yeah.” John shrugged. “Just water and Masa really, sometimes a little pork lard.”

Harold tilted his head in awe. “I am amazed.”

“Was that a corny pun?” John winked.

Harold rolled his eyes, but did quirk a smile so John considered it a success. They sat down to eat just fifteen minutes later. The tacos were soft with rich, spicy seasoned shredded beef. Radishes, fresh guacamole, and crema topped them with a bright vinaigrette over coleslaw on the side to cool the palate. Grilled corn with a garlic butter aioli completed the scrumptious meal. Harold was moaning his gratitude with each bite. John puffed up his chest at the compliments. The wine mellowed them out so that by the time the store bought lime tarts came out they were consumed with enthusiasm.

Harold insisted that he help with the dishes. So, they worked and chatted amiably; John drying as Harold washed.

When they were almost done racking the pots John casually murmured, “Something interesting happened at the precinct today.”

Harold paused briefly, but resumed quickly. “Oh?”

John folded the towel into half and hung it onto the stove’s handle. He leaned on the counter with a bland expression, but heavy lidded eyes watched Harold carefully, “Yeah. Seems Dr. Campbell resigned abruptly. She took off for a job in New Jersey. Just like that.”

John snapped his fingers making Harold jump slightly. John crossed his arms, asking breezily, “You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

Harold finished with the pots and pans letting them air dry completely on the rack. Then he turned to John while wiping his hands on the newly hung towel. “I might know practically everything about it.”

John grimaced, “You didn’t have to do that. I’m a big boy.”

“Yes, you are, but Ms. Campbell is also a sexual predator. She has turned the stalking of her helpless patients into something habitual and she refuses to stop; short of her being publicly exposed. You are very unique and special to me, but to her you were simply one in a long chain of patients she pressured into a romance.”

“I wasn’t... she couldn’t overpower me. She weighs nothing at all.” John scoffed.

Harold raised an eyebrow. “I am five inches shorter, crippled, and untrained yet I weld a great amount of power over you all the same.”

John shrugged. “That’s different.”

“It is not.” Harold stepped away from the sink. “You trusted Ms. Campbell with your trauma over losing Sameen and Carter as you trusted me with helping you through the loss of Jessica.”

Harold met John’s eyes. “You gave of yourself freely during sessions in order to heal. The same way you gave yourself freely to our purpose with the Numbers.”

The older man walked into the living room with John at his back. “Instead of keeping her personal attraction to herself, she guided your therapy towards resuming the pursuit of a normal life.”

Harold turned and faced John in front of the couch. “Something you previously weren’t considering. Instead of helping you with your past she inserted herself into your future. And I let it happen.”

Harold hung his head and spoke to the floor. “I knew you weren’t longing for a normal life, but I didn’t feel I had a right to deny you a chance. In addition, I was afraid I was letting jealousy color my point of view.”

John stepped forward, placing his large, sturdy hands on each of Harold hips causing Harold to look up and smile slightly as he said, “However, since you came to me of your own accord and broke it off with her, I had a moral imperative to get her away from you and her victim pool.”

Harold circled John’s broad shoulders with his own arms as John explained, “I just needed to vent about all my recent losses. I didn’t mean to push you out.”

Harold nodded sadly. “I wish you had felt comfortable coming to me for that venting, but I understand that I am a very closed off man.”

“It wasn’t that.” John kissed Harold swiftly, but full of affection. “If I had really felt I needed to talk to you about my feelings then I would have. But you lost them too. I didn't want to make you push aside your grief in order to assist me with mine.”

Harold moved in to nuzzle John’s throat. “We could have grieved together.”

John swallowed the emotion clogging his dry mouth. “From now on I’ll know that. I want that with you.”

Harold nodded, removed himself from the embrace, then made to sit on the couch. “This brings us to a topic I was hesitant to broach, but needs must. Is this relationship between us another coercive and predatory one? Do I hold too much power over you for us to truly be equals in this?”

“Finch.”

Harold held up his hand, “I know more about you then you would like. I saved your life according to you. You spent the first two years of our acquaintance telling every Number how grateful you were for me. You nearly burned the city down trying to find me when Ms. Groves took me. I love you, but that means I never want to harm you.”

John sat down, his long thighs brushing against Harold’s “And that’s why we are equals. Because I have just as much power over you as you have of me.”

John took Harold’s hand. “Just the chance that your love would be harmful to me made you secret it away, bury that love under friendship for four years. You hurt yourself instead of hurting me.”

John moved his head until he was eye to eye with Harold. “So, no this isn’t another doomed, problematic romance. I’m not naive like I was with Jessica. You don’t have to protect me from the evils you face like you had to do with Grace. And the power dynamic is stable with neither one of us having the upper hand.”

John gathered Harold into his lap, nuzzling a side-burn. “Besides, I’ve been pining for you for years. If this was only about gratitude then Zoe would have knocked that out of me years ago.This is more than anything I have ever felt. This is solid and everlasting.”

Harold let out a huge breathe.”I am so happy to hear you say that. If I had to keep my hands to myself another minute I was going to do something rash.”

“Really?” John raised an expressive eyebrow of his own. “Like what?”

“Something like this.” Harold claimed John’s mouth with sucking, open mouthed kisses.

~ * ~


	5. Expose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy ending for our boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warning for allusions to past sexual abuse (John/Stanton). Very minor mention, but I'd rather warn and be safe.

~ * ~

They made out like teenagers on the couch for what felt like hours. When they came up for air, John’s hand was in the back of Harold’s pants gripping that lush ass. Harold’s right arm was under John’s shirt playing with the sculpted chest and abs.

Harold’s face was flushed, his eyes bright, glasses fogged, and his lips were swollen from passion. He looked good enough to eat. John started to move in for more when Harold jumped off his lap. He stood up and reached out a hand to John. “You do have a bedroom.”

John took the proffered hand and they made their way to the bedroom: kissing and giggling the short distance. They told Bear to stay and shut the door. Harold pushed John against the cheap paneling to plunder his mouth in a breathtaking kiss.

Harold pulled off to asked, “What do you like, John?”

“You.”

Harold huffed a small laugh. “I mean what do you like in bed? Oral?”

John shrugged “Sure.”

Harold gave John narrowed eyes. “Giving or Receiving?”

John’s eyebrows lifted. “Both. What guy doesn’t like getting a blow job?”

Harold moved away to sit at the head of the bed removing his watch and shoes.“Some men can’t climax from oral sex alone. It frustrates them.”

John prowled towards Harold and asked. “Was Nathan one of those men?”

“It is impolite to discuss former lovers like that.” Harold smirked as he leaned back, Reese blanketing him with a lithe, long body.

Harold continued, “I will tell you that I had a few trysts, nothing major. The only man I’ve ever had inside of me was Nathan. A few of my later anonymous lovers- after Nathan and I broke up, but before I met Grace - weren’t people I could trust for penetration. However, I so love anal play.”

John's eyes nearly bugged out of his head.

Harold spoke casually, “I like toys. Would that be amenable? You working a small dildo inside of me?”

“Jesus, Finch!”

Harold shrugged himself this time, but kept his arms around John’s neck.“It’s best to be straightforward as it were. I like giving and receiving oral. I love anal intercourse. I even like frottage and intercrural. I cuddle. I crave touch, but rarely trust people enough to let my guard down.” Harold’s eye gleamed as he pulled aside the collar of John’s shirt to lap at the sweat gathered there. “You on the other hand are someone I want to pet and snuggle with until we are sticky and spent.”

“I’m developing a voice kink right this minute.” John said, his own voice strangled, forehead resting against Harold’s shoulder as he panted. Once he seemed to have gotten it under control he continued, “I like intercourse; I don’t care if I’m top or bottom. I like blow jobs, I really like having my mouth all over my lovers. Cuddling and snuggling are heaven." Quickly he said,  "I’ve had toys inside of me. Will athletic positions hurt your back or hip?”

Harold took a moment to ponder the question.“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been with anyone since I met Grace. My injuries might prevent acrobatics and my medications can cause constipation or even impotency on bad days, but I will tell you the minute I am uncomfortable. I don’t like pain; giving or receiving. I believe in open communication during sex.”

Harold took John’s jaw into a strong hand to make sure John understood as he said,“I expect the same from my partners.”

John nodded.

Harold released his grip on John’s face to smooth over prominent trapezius muscles. “Furthermore, we both get tested every six months since we come into contact with body fluids on a regular basis. I don’t need a condom or dental dam with you. However, I will not feel offended at all if you want to use them.”

John shook his head. “I don’t need them except for easy clean up.”

“Alright.” Harold accepted this as his hands wandered under John’s shirt again. “Now I need to ask you a very personal question.”

John laughed, a movement that Harold felt everywhere they touched. “After all this now you think you have a personal question?”

Harold just blinked. “Have you ever had a bad experience with a sex act?”

John flinched.

“I suspected as much.” Harold removed his hands from the tempting skin. “I need to know what to avoid you see. Please, if you can just tell me what I shouldn’t attempt.”

“I’m okay with everything.” John’s eyes were almost pleading. “One bad experience--”

“One?” Harold interrupted with incredulity. “Really Mr. Reese, I asked for honesty. I have read Ms. Stanton’s file remember. This is supposed to be a positive experience for both of us. I can’t be free to let loose if I have to wonder about your boundaries. It isn’t good for me unless it’s good for you as well.”

John swallowed around his tight throat. He then tipped his head forward to rest on the top of Harold’s spiky hair. Slowly he whispered, “Pegging. I can’t...”

“You needn’t tell me why unless you want to.” Harold quickly explained, looking up. “Could you do it to me?”

“Yeah” John’s voice was like gravel under a heavy car. “Just not on the receiving end.”

“No toys for you then.” Harold concluded. As reward for honesty, Harold replaced his hands on John’s trim waist, reassuring his lover. “That’s fine. Thank you.”

Harold cradled John’s face, looking at the younger man with such reverence and love it made John blush. “What?” John murmured

Harold inhaled and smiled. “The awkward part is over, now comes the fun part.”

“What’s the fun part?”

“This.” Harold started unbuttoning his vest and shirt. John caught on instantly. He scrambled to his knees and pulled his shirt off in one motion. Then he leaned forward to help Harold into a sitting position to assist the older man with removing all three layers. Both men were breathing hard as they looked at each other.

Harold reached out a hand to gloss his palms along John’s neck again, cupping his shoulders, then spanning the lush terrain of John’s chest. “You are as beautiful as I imagined. I always find your kindness, your heart to be so gorgeous that it radiates around you, turning you into an Adonis.”

Harold looked up into John’s face. “But it’s not just your physical appearance that makes my blood sing. I have often thought you were a perfect mix of Illya Kuryakin and Napoleon Solo.”

John snorted.”Didn't know you were a fan of _Man from UNCLE,_ Finch.”

“Oh yes. Remember when I was growing up we only had three channels. Everyone watched _Man from UNCLE_. I always felt that they belonged together and I wanted to be a part of that. When I hit puberty I discovered exactly how I wished to fit in their world.”

John’s smile was filthy as he said, “The meat in a spy sandwich?”

“Something like that.” Harold blushed. “Only as I look at you, with the skill, the talent, the bravery, an abundance of charm and shapeliness, I feel more like Waverly by comparison.”

“Oh no. You aren’t The Old Man.”

“Who then?” Harold wondered.”Not one of their Innocents surely.”

“Well, continuing this metaphor,” John struggled to remember the reruns from his childhood. “Our situation would make you the _Girl From UNCLE_ combined with the partner. What was his name?”

“Mark.”

John raised an eyebrow in question.

Harold blushed again, “I told you we only had three channels.” Harold cleared his throat. “Well, now that you know you are the epitome of what I have wanted all my adult life, what would you like to do with me?”

“The fun part.” John moved towards Harold, exploring carefully. The scars were there and John was curious, but he already knew where they came from: The Ferry Bombing. He had a good idea of Harold’s physical limitations. So his touch was more for cataloging the feel of his lover rather than acquiring data for a mission.

It was heavenly to stroke Harold’s sides, ruffle the graying chest hair, kiss that crooked mouth. John inhaled the spicy scent of Harold and male musk. His lips latched on along the vulnerable neck, sucking slightly. The collarbone was prominent and the chest not as taut as a younger man’s, but it belonged to the one he loved, making it a wonderland. The springy hair tickled his nose as his tongue plummeted down to follow the treasure trail to Harold's belly button. John circled the dimple with his tongue making Harold giggle.

John looked up, “Ticklish?”

Harold shrugged. “A little.”

John smirked. “Good to know.” He set about removing Harold's slacks. Harold shifted to help him. Once Harold was in just his tented boxers, John made to remove them, his mouth watering.

Harold stopped him with his hands. “Now you.”

John rocked back on his heels, taking his time to peel the flies apart. Harold’s eyes were riveted to John’s groin. The scrutiny made John flush, his hot blood boiling. He squeezed himself through his briefs to keep from coming just from that look.

Harold’s legs were bracketing John’s, using his good leg Harold rubbed his ankle against John’s side to get his attention. “Perhaps we should hurry?” John nodded and quickly got naked. Harold made a lovely groan at the sight of John’s red erection bobbing in the air. John smiled sweetly as he hovered over Harold again. The boxers were slowly tugged down Harold’s legs by the former Op.

Harold’s pubes were trimmed but still there. John liked it. The fat head was a deep pink like Harold's kiss swollen lips. The few gray hairs around the column of flesh was endearing- John wasn’t with a boy or a twink. No Harold was a man, a man who had created the world’s most dangerous program. John was wrapping his hand around the cock of a Titan: the father of a god.

Harold twitched and made grabby hands towards John’s own erection which was nearly hidden within the forest of hair around his loins. John moved his hips forward, never losing his grip on Harold.

Harold used both his hands to encompass John’s impressive length- where Harold was thick, John was long, but pressing their erections together was almost electrifying. John gave a small shout and planted both hands on either side of Harold's shoulders. Harold gathered both there cocks in his agile hands. John began to rock his hips into the tight, hot tunnel. Harold’s head fell back, John nipped at the exposed throat.

Together they found a rhythm. John’s hips thrusting down and back, Harold’s hands pumping and twisting. It was exquisite. The feel of another body, of someone else was intoxicating. The heat between them, the love which surrounded them like a cloud.

Harold moaned, his legs shifting with the urge to thrust. John sped up, kissed his lover with slack lips, becoming distracted by the pleasure surging between them. The friction was eased by their mingling secretions. The passion reached a fevered pitch, John’s hips stuttered as he sprayed hot juices over Harold’s hands and cock. Harold made a keening noise and froze, his eyes rolling back when he contributed his own splash of semen.

They were both a panting, sticky mess with huge, silly grins on their faces. John laughed in the most carefree way Harold had ever heard. His eyes were sparkling. John looked years younger and lighter. Harold wiped one hand on his discarded underwear so he could cup John’s beautiful face. “I love you so much.”

John blushed, his long lashes dipping to fan over his high cheekbones. “If this is a dream, I hope I never wake up.”

Harold blinked back tears. “Some dreams do come true, Mr. Reese.”

~ * ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who helped me finish this piece. Including [Blue_Finch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Finch)! Best Beta Ever!


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